Call of Duty: Big Red One: The Mute's Story
by Makori
Summary: Trapper, a man without a voice, must become the best damn soldier he can if he's going to survive Africa, Italy, France, and finally Germany and get back home to his family.  My take on COD BR1. Rated for violence and language.


**Call of Duty: Big Red One**

**The Mute's Story**

**Prologue: We've Been Through Worse**

_August 28__th__, 1944_

_Maubeuge, France_

_0840 hours_

As Sergeant Cid 'Trapper' Morgan stepped off the transport, he looked around to find yet another hell on earth of a battlefield in front of him. If he had the ability to speak, he'd be scoffing at the so-called 'problem' in front of him.

As the other members of his squad dismounted behind him, ducking as the occasional plane zoomed over, he heard them doing what he had in mind and chortling at the scene before them. Some of the replacements, though, didn't look too happy with the prospect of running in there and possible getting their heads blown off.

Except one of them.

A young man, no older than eighteen it looked like, was grinning ear to ear as he sighted down his M1 Garand, then turned back and said "Man, I can't wait to put this baby to some real use!"

A scoff and a New York accent said "Getta load of him."

Corporal Alvin 'Brooklyn' Bloomfield had just stepped up, rifle balanced in the crook of his arm, freckles peeping from under the dirt on his face and the same dirty old Joe DiMaggio baseball card stuck in the brim of his helmet. Trapper was still amazed, even though he'd seen it enough, that the old card was still there. He was starting to think Brooklyn had glued it in or something.

Brooklyn was still going as he thumbed to the newbie and said "Where do they keep gettin' these guys?" He was talking about the million new guys who had cycled through their ranks, almost all of them dead now.

Before Brooklyn could say anymore, though, Corporal Stephen Kelly cut in, rolling his eyes and giving the New Yorker a shove, saying "Give it a rest, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn threw up a hand in defeat before snapping "Fine, then you collect his dog tags!"

The private looked from one soldier to the other, confused, before he asked "Well, what's he sore about? I just said-"

Brooklyn cut the boy off with a sharp comment. "Hey, look, replacement, just because you got that patch on your shoulder don't mean you're one of us."

He stomped off and Kelly, trying to do damage control, asked the new kid "What'cha say your name was?"

The kid seemed to recover his bruised ego somewhat and said "Andy. Andy Allen."

Kelly waved his hand a little and said "Don't mind him Allen, he lost a lot of friends in France. We all did."

Trapper would have signaled something reassuring that Kelly could translate, but before he could, a jeep pulled up with a few of the other replacements. One of them got out and said, over the explosions in the background, "It's hell out there, guys. It looks like a whole division of SS have moved in, and they ain't givin' up those crossroads."

On the heels of the soldier's report came the familiar gruff voice of one Sergeant Glenn 'Hawk' Hawkins, commander and general father figure of the unit.

"Okay, listen up!"

Everyone turned to face him, even Trapper, who was of the same rank, but still showed Hawk the same undying respect he had always shown him.

Hawk continued "We gotta regiment of mechanized SS dug in across that river. Division wants control of those crossroads, so it's our job to clear that bridge for our armor."

The kid, Allen, piped up with "Can't we get some air support, sir? Sure make this a hell of a lot easier-look out, Stukas!"

He was the only person who dove for the ground. Everyone else simply tilted their heads away from the bright flash of whatever the plane was shooting at. They all knew it wouldn't shoot at them, the angle the plane was taking wasn't deep enough to target them. Trapper rolled his eyes and knew this kid was going to have a hard time fitting in.

Hawk shook his head at the new soldier and responded "There's no time! We gotta take that damn bridgehead _right. Now_. Trapper!"

Trapper looked up again as the kid got to his feet and nodded at Hawk to show he was listening. Everyone else, Kelly, Brooklyn and Private Jackson 'Schmitty' Smith all looked at him as Hawk said "I want you to take your squad and move you to take your squad and move down that hill!"

Trapper nodded and made a few signs with his hands that the replacements blinked in puzzlement at, but all the battle hardened veterans got it and chuckled amongst themselves. Not Hawk, though.

He simply replied "Yes, take the new kid. You're short right now, aren't you?"

Before Trapper could reply, someone else yelled "INCOMING!" and everyone ducked down, hands to guns as another enemy plane flew over, this time strafing for them, the bullets narrowly missing them all and the vehicles. They all knew it was time to move.

Trapper dashed forward, followed by Brooklyn, Kelly, Schmitty, the kid Allen and a few other replacements, as shrapnel and machine-gun fire, coupled with explosions from tank rounds and falling airplanes ripped up the landscape around them. Trapper clenched his Thompson, his finger tensed over the trigger guard, ready to blow a few bursts into a German belly as they crossed a destroyed bridge and another plane zoomed over their head in flames to crash right into the hillside. None of the veterans were affected, but a few of the replacements jumped at the explosions, especially the plane. Other men around them fell, hit by flying shrapnel as well as the occasional stray bullet. One or two of the replacements went down and didn't get up.

Finally, Trapper's squad reached the 'town' itself. They had to go around some vehicle wreckage to get to the flaming debris first though, but were greeted by a volley of sub-machine gun fire throwing bullets across the wreckage with a merry 'ping-ping.' Everyone went down and began to return fire, most of the combat-worn troops knowing exactly how to fire when moving to actually hit their target. A few of the replacements stopped a few times to draw a bead, but they were ushered along by the others. However, right around the corner, they met with a surprise: a Panzer tank was rolling towards them, machine-guns firing full auto. It didn't last too long, however, since a Sherman rolled through the trees on the hill above the squad and fired, blowing up the enemy tank. However, this provided another problem, as the wreckage now blocked the road. However, the soldiers simply danced through the rubble of a few buildings, taking care to avoid the flames from others, and jumped into a cellar, taking the easy route around. Allen found a door and kicked it open, revealing a few wounded soldiers on the other side, but nobody stopped to check on them. Instead, they all went for the stairs.

Trapper had just made it to the top when another explosion shook the building, knocking dust down from the roof. Kelly, the first to get his eyesight back, looked out of the large gaping hole in the wall and yelled "There's the bridge, Sarge!"

Trapper threw him a thumbs up over his shoulder as he also spotted it. The Germans were dug in, sandbags, barbed wire and all, and were firing with all they had. Allen, failing to notice this, said "Look! A Sherman!" and pointed to the green tank that was currently laying down fire on the Germans. Brooklyn brought the kid back to earth with a nudge to the shoulder and pointed with his Garand, saying "Now's you're chance to use that rifle, Allen." The boy visibly paled, and Trapper could've sworn he'd heard him gulp. However, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Though Trapper could see that their fire was thinning the Germans some, it wasn't going to cut it. He patted Kelly on the shoulder, and Kelly yelled "Trapper's trying to say something!"

Once Trapper had everyone's attention, he threw his right hand in the air, fisted, then brought it down in a vertical chop towards an opening in the wall of the house that led outside. He then bent his hand so that it was perpendicular to his arm and moved it to the left, signaling a flanking move. The squad understood and quickly started moving towards the gap, where the Sherman was visible. Gathering at the building's corner and using it for cover, they began laying down more fire. The Sherman, noticing the drop in German numbers, rolled forward, spraying death in the form of lead, and made it past the first row of sandbags and onto the bridge. Before it could go further, however, Allen pointed into the sky and yelled "Stuka!" before firing a few shots. Trapper looked over his shoulder just in time to see the German plane drop down and deliver its payload, then pull up out of range. The bombs, meanwhile, blew up the tank and the bridge, effectively blocking them again.

Allen voiced a different thought, however. "They got our armor! Damn!"

Trapper turned to him, tight-lipped, but before he could do anything, he heard Brooklyn point and yell "Through that basement! Follow me!" then take off. The rest of the squad soon pursued after him, ducking to avoid getting hit. It wasn't much of a basement more than it was a hole in the ground, but it proved to be a way to get around the river. It opened up to the river once more, with some ruined buildings on the other side. Speaking of buildings…

"Across the river!" yelled Brooklyn as he brought his gun up to fire on a few Germans who had popped up in some of the windows.

"In the buildings!" Kelly yelled to a few of the replacements who were looking around, clueless. Trapper reloaded his Thompson again before popping back up from his cover and firing a few more bursts.

_'Goddamn, is this a war or just a bunch of shootouts between gangs?'_ he thought as more enemies popped up in the windows. Suddenly, though, he was knocked to the ground as another explosion from God-only-knew-where knocked out a section of the destroyed building they were hiding in, opening up a path through a few wrecked houses towards open ground and a way over the river. Just as they were about to exit the buildings, however, a spray of machine gun fire spat at the ground, throwing up little showers of dirt.

"HOLD UP! HOLD UP!" bellowed Brooklyn. Like anyone needed to be told. Everyone froze, hiding under cover as Brooklyn inched forward, watching the bullets, saying "Wait for the reload, and…" He waited, watching the dirt. Finally, he yelled "NOW!" and everyone burst from cover, firing towards the machine gunner's position before crouching down behind another brick wall.

Kelly looked over at the dirt road next to them before turning back and saying "Those Shermans should clear the way for us, Sarge!" Trapper nodded, then pointed to the tanks, then making a walking movement with his fingers. Kelly nodded, then yelled "TRAPPER SAYS TO FOLLOW THE TANKS!"

Everyone instantly leapt up and went around the side of the building, just as one of the tanks blew up. So, instead, they decided to head towards the bridge on their own and use the rubble as cover. However, when they did reach the road, something was waiting for them.

Brooklyn almost panicked as he yelled "TIGER! Across the bridge!"

And indeed it was. The monster tank that was every soldier's nightmare. That armor was damn near impenetrable, and the big gun could take out nearly every other tank in existence.

The squad all dove for cover among the rubble, popping out time and again to fire at the small gaps, hoping to get the lucky shot that would nail the gunner. Not likely, but hell, it was better than sitting there waiting to die. However, their savior came in an unseen form.

Another plane, this time one of theirs, flew over, dropping a bomb that landed right next to the tank. It disabled the treads, while still leaving some room to go around it, but the turret was still swiveling and firing.

"Watch it!" yelled Kelly "That turret is still active!"

Allen, bless the kid, finally had a good idea. "Maybe we can draw its fire so our guys can take it out with satchel charges!"

Trapper rolled his eyes. What else were they going to do?

They all popped up again and fired at the tank, the bullets sparking as they ricocheted off the thick armor. It worked though, since the turret didn't once swivel around towards the two soldiers who ran towards it, explosives in hand. They all ducked down again as the tank fired…except for one person.

"Stay down, Allen!" yelled Kelly as he grabbed the kid's shoulder. The kid was yelling, almost cheering them on like his favorite baseball team instead of his fellow soldiers. "C'mon, plant that charge! C'mon!"

And, indeed, it seemed the soldiers were about to complete their task when more gunfire opened up behind them, blowing them both off the tank. Trapper didn't have to give the next order. Brooklyn did it for him.

"Aw, Christ, FALL BACK!"

And they did. They all took cover once more, breathing hard and clutching their guns. The Tiger fired once again, but mercifully only hit the building. Brooklyn tapped Trapper on the shoulder and said "Maybe we can get a flank through the building on the 20mm, Sarge."

Trapper actually hated it when they called him Sarge. It made it sound like he wasn't their friend, just their CO. He was just damn fine with good old Trapper.

He nodded anyhow, and Brooklyn and Kelly began telling everyone to get moving. Trapper shook his head. Ah, Brooklyn and Kelly. They were his best friends, yet would carry out his orders to the letter without any complaints.

Everyone began climbing through the building, staying out of the view of the tank, and managed to get to the top floor. However, it wasn't as easy as it looked. But then again, when was it ever? Another machine gun sat a little ways from the flak gun, and it opened up on them the second they popped up. The solution? Trapper, the most accurate one among them, drew a bead on the gunner and fired a few singles into his chest. Then, to rectify the flak gun problem, he pulled out a frag grenade, primed it, then chucked it at the gun. It detonated, taking down the whole crew. Allen laughed and yelled "Nice one, Sarge!" Trapper allowed himself a smile before he pointed everyone down some stairs on the side so they could take down the tank. Brooklyn tossed Trapper an explosive, and Trapper began priming it, ready to plant it.

However, when they got to the bridge, it seemed there was yet another problem. Another machine gun up on the top floor of a house, and nobody could stop and take cover. They all simply fired at it as they ran by the tank, making a bum rush towards the house. As Trapper, the last one, ran by, he started the timer, then slapped the charge on the tank, rushing over to the house, which the rest of the squad had already cleared. He looked back just in time to see the tank go up in flames.

The celebration was short-lived, however, since Brooklyn yelled "The bombers are comin' in to flatten this friggin' berg! Lay some smoke so we don't get hammered by our own bombs!"

He didn't have to tell them twice. Trapper, Kelly and Schmitty all pulled smoke grenades out and chucked them into the street. Just in time, too. They could all see several American bombers flying overhead, dropping their deadly payload. However, over the whistling of the bombs, there came another sound: the revving of engines. Everyone looked at each other, and could tell they were all thinking the same thing: oh shit.

Their smoke grenade had tipped off the Germans of their location.

Trapper scrambled upstairs, tripping and dropping his Thompson, but managed to grab hold of it just as Allen yelled "Here they come!"

Everyone downstairs chucked frag grenades into the oncoming line of grey as Trapper opened up with his sub machine gun. Allen and a few of the other replacements ran out and ducked behind the sandbags in the street before popping back up and opening fire. Trapper fired a few bursts into some Germans who were hiding behind some sandbags, and could see that they were most definitely **not** beginning to thin out. However, something else came to their ears: the distinctive scream of Stukas in a dive.

Allen heard this and screamed "TAKE COVER! TAKE--" but too late. The other replacements at the sandbags were torn apart by the bombs. Soon after, however, the mortars started going off, landing all around them.

"Allen! Get down! Get down!" Trapper heard Kelly yell, but also too late. The boy's head jerked back as a rifle bullet punched through his helmet, and his lifeless hands dropped his rifle. Trapper knew that the kid was dead before he hit the ground.

But Kelly, always the kind, caring man, would not dismiss him as gone yet. As he did for everyone he saw go down, he yelled "Allen! MEDIC!"

Trapper was about to go down there and hold Kelly down if he had to, when the top floor suddenly blew up. Trapper was launched into the air, his helmet and Thompson flying away from him as he hit the ground, landing on his back. He blacked out for a minute, but came back to his senses in time to see Brooklyn and Kelly running down towards him, mortars dropping all around him. Kelly was providing covering fire while Brooklyn dropped his gun and slid beside Trapper on his knees.

His reassuring face looked down at him and yelled "Hang tough Sarge! You're gonna be okay, look at me." Then Brooklyn glanced over his shoulder and screamed "WHERE'S THAT DAMN MEDIC?!" He then looked back down at Trapper and yelled "Keep looking at me, okay? You're gonna be fine, Sarge. You're gonna make it. Stay with me, buddy."

Trapper tried to nod, but felt too dizzy to do even that, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he black out again.

Before he did however, he heard "Sarge? Sarge! TRAPPER!"

And then he knew no more.


End file.
